


Six

by Midnight13093



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/F, Korriban (Star Wars), Old Republic Era, Polyamory, Sith Academy, Sith Empire, Sith Training, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:13:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23284570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnight13093/pseuds/Midnight13093
Summary: None of them are trustworthy.  Not the Republic, not the Empire, not the Jedi, and not the Sith.  There is no good side to take, but Tritolyte can't stand by and watch the galaxy destroy itself.  No, it's best to use her particular set of... talents to keep innocents out of the way of these monstrous war machines wherever she can.  And if she can't help falling for every woman who helps her in these endeavors, well, that's hardly her fault, is it?
Relationships: Female Sith Inquisitor/Vette, Female Sith Warrior/Vette, female sith inquisitor/Kory
Kudos: 8





	1. Arrival on Korriban

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rough and complicated idea I've had in my head for a long time, and obviously, I've taken a lot of liberties with the construction of the plot. Be advised it's a work in progress, any comments are appreciated.

The hiss of the airlock opening snapped Tritolyte out of her stupor. She opened her yellow eyes, and looked out the shuttle doors, towards the landing platform, where a group of people waited. She stood and disembarked, approaching the gathering, and as she drew near she scanned the group. Seven appeared to be fellow acolytes, most looked very like her, rail thin, many with slave scarring like hers, looking like they’d never picked up a vibroblade before. Two men however, stood out, not only because they were clearly well fed and unmarked, but because they seemed to radiate power. Which, it occurred to Tritolyte, they likely did, and her force powers were telling her. It was odd, the constant presence of… something, that she had felt her whole life was the Force. That mystical entity that gave jedi and sith such power, was strong in her too. She had to keep reminding herself that her odd abilities and excellent perception were no fluke or coincidence.

She forced her mind back to the present as she fell in line between a pink skinned Twi’lek man and a scarred red headed woman. As she did, a tattooed man with red hair spoke, “Ah, the last one to arrive is finally here, I hope you don’t think you’re special.” Tritolyte kept her face blank and said nothing, privately thinking that this man would have to try much harder to get under the skins of former slaves; verbal abuse wasn’t exactly new to any who had known servitude. The mean faced man continued, “It would be a shame if freedom went to your head, or if you somehow got the idea in your head you didn’t need to pass your trials to become Sith. I am Overseer Harkun, and Darth Baras has tasked me with sorting through you refuse to find one worthy of being his apprentice. Though I can tell by looking at the lot of you that we have some clear frontrunners already.” His gaze lingered on the two strong looking men. “Now acolytes, for your trial: there’s a hermit named Spindrall in the tomb of Ajunta Pall in the Valley of the Dark Lords. Some lords, including Darth Baras, see him as a prophet; go to him, and he will test you.” His gaze swept the assembled acolytes. “I expect few of you will please the madman, so this will be our happy farewell.” He smiled cruelly, and the redhead shifted nervously next to Tritolyte. “But there, you have your task, go, and if you survive meet me in the Sith Academy for your second trial.” The overseer turned and left through the landing pad doors without a backwards glance.

The two non-slave acolytes looked at each other, sizing each other up. The first was a human, of average height, making him slightly shorter than Tritolyte’s very tall, very underfed frame, but he was solidly built. His red hair was shaved in stripes down the back of his head, and his blue eyes stood out sharply, despite the two crisscrossing scars on his face. The other man was a pureblood sith of similar build, with red eyes and red skin. The human extended his hand after a moment of silence, “The name’s Vemrin, and you look to be the only acolyte worth my time right now.” The sith man shook Vemrin’s hand saying, “I’m Ffon. You’re right the others do seem to be beneath our notice.” He threw a careless glance over all the former slaves, daring them to rise to his challenge. Tritolyte felt her temper rising but kept a firm hold of herself. An all out melee as soon as the overseer turned his back would reflect poorly on any who survived. “Let’s go and find that old hermit, I doubt these weaklings will need our assistance in failing.” Ffon continued. Vemrin nodded a cold, sardonic smile on his face, “But if they do, we’ll just have to help our fellow acolytes realize their destiny.” Ffon let out a cold laugh, as he and Vemrin left the platform together.

There was a pause, where none of the acolytes said anything, before two men, with a strong resemblance to one another, left in step together, in silence. A sandy haired man left, his back stiff and determined. The pink Twi’lek threw Tritolyte and the other woman a glance before he hurried out towards the Valley of the Dark Lords himself. “Don’t worry,” The other woman said nervously, “They can’t kill us all.” Tritolyte fixed her with a gaze, “I’m not worried, death doesn’t scare me.” The woman seemed taken aback by this response. Softening her gaze and her voice Tritolyte said, “What’s your name?” Looking at the woman properly, she thought that she was rather cute, and at any rate, if she was going up against alliances, she wanted one of her own. “Kory,” said the woman, smiling at her and looking more at ease. “Well Kory, I’m Tritolyte.” she said, returning the smile, “What do you say we watch each other’s backs in that tomb, I’m sure there’s more than a crazy hermit in there.” Kory’s smile broadened, and Tritolyte decided that she was definitely pretty. “I’d like that.” And the two women left together.


	2. After the First Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following Kory's execution at Harkun's hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a work in progress, comments are welcome.

Tritolyte was shaking. She walked quickly through the halls until she spotted a room that was empty, except for a blue four-legged monster in a cage. She walked in and slumped against the wall, allowing the silent tears to stream down her face. She had long ago learned how to cry silently, and it was almost comical that the skill was being put to use on her path to become Sith. Her breath came fast and uneven as more tears fell, and the monster growled across the room. Kory. Kory was dead. Kory was murdered. Murdered right in front of her, and Tritolyte just watched. Watched as their teacher shocked her to death, and as those two bastards Ffon and Vemrin muffled their laughter. Watched as Kory gasped what might have been the beginnings of her name, before she succumbed to the force of the lightning. “Trit…” The crackle of the lightning, the thud of her body, were nothing to that single syllable, gasped in agony. “Trit…” A sound she had heard from Kory’s mouth hours before, a gasp of pleasure, as they squandered what little time they had to rest for the comfort they could provide each other. “Trit…”

Her breathing slowed, and her tears gradually stopped. Why hadn’t she known? She had known something was wrong when Kory came out of the hermit’s chamber carrying a tablet neither could read, saying that he had just looked at her for a long moment before handing her the stone. Of course something was wrong. Tritolyte’s own trial had been harrowing, Spindrall had set six fallen acolytes on her, and after she had killed them, he had spoken with her at length about the Sith code and Darth Baras. With another horrible shock, Tritolyte realized that she had killed the acolytes, killed the looters in the tomb, without a thought. Sure they had attacked her and Kory, but Tritolyte had been in many fights before without killing her opponent. Was that all it took? Give a girl a vibrosword and tell her she has special powers, and she becomes a killer? The tears were returning to Tritoyle now. Was it worse though to watch her ally, Kory, die? Killing people who attacked you was one thing but surely it was worse to stand by and watch a woman she had promised to look out for die in front of her, without doing anything. “Trit…” Her last words were a plea for help, what kind of monster was she? 24 hours in the Sith Academy was enough to make her stand and watch a woman she had lain with writhe in pain, and die before her eyes.

Could she have done anything? A colder voice entered her thoughts. She could hardly have stopped Harkun, and if she had tried, she was quite sure she would be dead too. “Death doesn’t scare me,” Her own words came back to her. She had said that to Kory, they were nearly the first words out of her mouth to her. Of course Kory thought she would help her, if death wasn’t a concern why wouldn’t she help her friend. Remorse pounded through Tritolyte as much as grief. She had let her down. “Trit…” Would Kory have intervened if the roles were reversed? The cold voice was back, and a chill ran down her spine. If Tritolyte was the one being shocked to death, would Kory have stepped in? An imaginary scene crossed her mind of Harkun standing over Tritolyte as lightning coursed through her, and of Kory drawing her vibrosword and swinging it at Harkun. Of Harkun’s lightsaber igniting and slashing the other woman in half, before laughing and resuming his torture of Tritolyte. Yes, Kory might have intervened, but she wouldn’t have been successful, Tritolyte reasoned with herself. She wouldn’t have saved us, and neither could I. She would have tried, though. Tritolyte bowed her head, her eyes seemed out of tears, her body unable to produce enough to properly express her grief and her guilt.

Her breathing steadied again, and she straightened up. This would never happen again, she thought vehemently. She would not become one of those Sith who killed as a mere reflex, or even as a pleasure. She would not allow innocents to be killed in front of her, not without saying something. Surely, she thought with a wry smile, that would be a goal worth dying for. The voices echoed in her head, “Trit… Death doesn’t scare me… I doubt these weaklings will need assistance in failing… The force shall set you free.” A harsh snort of laughter escaped Tritolyte. She was in truth no freer than she had been as a slave to that vile Hutt, and there was no escape. She took a deep calming breath, she was doomed, but if she passed these trials, if she became Sith, she might be in a position to help others. She’d have to go carefully, Ffon and Vemrin were enough of a threat without the trials, which would surely get increasingly more difficult. She would not sink to their level, she was sure of it, even if it meant she would be the next to fall to Harkun’s sadistic power trip. She would do whatever she could to save and protect, and maybe, Kory might forgive her one day.


	3. The Final Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tritolyte's final assignment, and the introduction of Vette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one, I've been organizing the story in somewhat disconnected scenes, which means some are longer than others. As always criticism is welcome.

Baras was terrifying. His voice, through his vocoder was as cold as ice, and he radiated darkness in a way that Tritolyte had never seen before. She had been warned to take him seriously at all times, and she had no intentions to ignore this advice. “Klemral, you are not worthy of being my apprentice, you are to wait in the antechamber for your assignment to a lesser position in the academy.” The sandy haired acolyte bowed and said, “Yes, my lord.” before leaving, with the briefest of glances towards Tritolyte. Tritolyte kept her face impassive, or as impassive as it could be with half of it covered in bacta. The second trip she had taken into the tomb of Tulak Hord had proved costly, a Tuk’ata managing a ragged blow to her face. It was worth it though, thought Tritolyte fiercely, if Klemral survives all of this, some scars are a small price to pay. If she was lucky they would cover up her slave scars, she decided to take the bacta patches off as soon as Baras dismissed them.

“Now, acolytes, I now see which of you is destined to be my apprentice, though you stand now as equals I foresee that Acolyte Tritolyte shall rise and become greater than either you Vemrin, or you Ffon.” Baras spoke with ringing authority, and Tritolyte was surprised that Vemrin had the courage to say, “But that’s not fair, we’ve passed all our trials, we all deserve the chance…” Baras cut him off, “Silence.” Vemrin fell quiet, and Ffon shifted uncomfortably beside him. “You two are dismissed,” Said Baras coldly, turning his back on the men. Vemrin and Ffon left, the air thick with tension. “Apprentice,” said Baras, addressing Tritolyte, “Deep in the tomb of Naga Sadow there is an ancient and powerful lightsaber that has lain there for centuries. None have ever come close to slipping past all the traps and obstacles in the tomb, except for one. A Twi’lek criminal was caught deeper into the tomb than any acolyte had ever penetrated. Go to the jails and speak with Jailer Knash, he will turn her over to you, and you will make her show you how to get into the tomb of Naga Sadow.” Baras turned to face his apprentice again, his facemask as expressionless as ever, “Go my apprentice, when you have the lightsaber return to me, and you shall be a fully realized Sith.” Tritolyte bowed, “Yes, my lord,” Turned and left the room, noting that the antechamber was empty of the three men who were told to wait there.

“Chirp, chirp, chirp” Greeted Tritolyte’s ears as she entered the jails, followed by a gasp of pain and the all too familiar crackle of a slave collar. Jailer Knash turned as she walked in revealing the collars remote in his hand, “Ah so you’re the one who’s gonna be Darth Baras’s new apprentice? Good job if you can get it.” He turned back to the blue Twi’lek woman in the cage, “And it looks like it’s my lucky day, little bird, because you’re her problem now, and you’re going back into the tombs.” He leered at her, “Oh goody. None of you Sith can figure out the secret to getting into the tomb, huh?” She cocked her head, eyes falling on Tritolyte. Her time as an acolyte had given her more scars, but steady food had filled out her tall frame, and constant fighting with beasts and beings in the tombs meant that she was now strong and muscular, the part of her face that was unscarred served a stark contrast still appearing so young. Her hair had grown longer during her time in the Academy, but she had cut it short again the previous night and dyed it back to its bright, unnatural red, the natural silver hair had been showing. She met the Twi’lek’s eyes, “Yes, and I’d appreciate your help.” She could see the surprise at her tone flicker across the woman’s face before Knash roughly said, “Don’t bother being pleasant, here,” He handed her the collar remote, “I’ve turned up the settings, use it enough, and she’ll show you the back door to her mother’s house.” Tritolyte took the remote, repressing the shudder of disgust that passed through her body, and swearing silently that she would never, ever use a shock collar on this woman or anyone else. Jailer Knash opened up the woman’s cage, and handed her two blasters. “Alright, so we’re clear, I’m officially on strike when it comes to domestic duties.” She said looking up at the Sith, who couldn’t help but smile, “What is your name?” The Twi’lek swallowed but maintained eye contact, “Vette.” Tritolyte replied fighting the urge to blush under her gaze, “Well Vette, my name’s Tritolyte, and I assure you that I don’t require a maid.” Vette nodded thoughtfully, “Well then maybe things are looking up for me after all.”


	4. Into the Tomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events inside the Tomb of Naga Sadow

The tomb was harrowing; dozens of failed acolytes waited inside to tear them apart, but they made it through. Vette, as it turned out, was quick with those blaster pistols, and adapted well to fighting alongside Tritolyte, their moves quickly becoming seamless and deadly. Vette also was very adept at recalling the switches to open the chamber, which were hidden all over the tomb, causing Tritolyte to wonder how she had found them all alone. She was a fascinating woman, always quick with a joke or a snappy remark, despite being enslaved in probably one of the worst places in the galaxy. Tritolyte had to admire her spirit.

The sound of grating stone snapped Tritolyte back to the present. “Almost got it!” Vette said, excitement in her voice. They were in the antechamber, just before the chamber where the lightsaber was supposed to be. “Lovely, slave, just make sure that door’s open by the time we finish killing your new master.” Tritolyte and Vette both whipped around, catching sight of Ffon and Vemrin, walking towards them shoulder to shoulder, blades drawn. Tritolyte drew her own blade and Vette unholstered her pistols, as Ffon spoke again, “Now, now, you didn’t think we were going to let Baras pass us over? Not when you are so obviously unworthy of being Sith.” Vemrin stepped forward, “No, a slave like you?” Tritolyte could feel Vette’s quick glance towards her, knew that she was noticing the remnants of her slave scars beneath the fresher wounds, and the Sith face paint she now wore. “You are weak, and when Ffon and I return with the lightsaber, Baras will have to choose one of us to be his apprentice.” Tritolyte’s eyebrows rose as she saw the flaw in their little scheme. “Oh, and which will he choose? And what will happen to the other? You are disobeying Baras’s direct orders, after all.” She sneered at the two male acolytes looking up at her. Ffon and Vemrin cast each other covert sideways glances; the hesitance and the slight distraction kept the four people’s attention long enough that the fifth person, a young man with sandy hair, was able to bring his vibroblade down across Vemrin’s back.

Klemral had a moment of triumph, standing over his former rival, and looking up at Tritolyte, a fierce sort of gratitude in his face before Ffon’s blade plunged into the man’s chest. A dull pang hit Tritolyte in the chest, but it was quickly overcome with shock as Ffon wrenched his blade from Klemral’s body, turned swiftly, and shot lightning into Vemrin’s feebly stirring body. A horrible expression of maniacal glee stole over the Sith’s red face, as his ally slumped back on the floor with a dull and final thud. “Well, I really should have thanked your weak friend Klemral before I ended his pathetic existence. He really made things much easier for me, Vemrin was the only acolyte who could possibly challenge me after all, and fighting him was not something I looked forward to.” Tritolyte gaped, she knew Ffon was a monster, a cold-blooded murderer, who had wanted her and the others dead from the start, but Vemrin was his ally, his friend, they had gotten along, laughed at how they were superior to the former slave stock they were up against. He had killed him, without hesitation, the moment he saw an opportunity. “He was your friend!” She shouted at the man before she could stop herself, “He trusted you!” Ffon threw his head back and laughed, a horrible cold sound that echoed off the tomb’s stone walls. “He didn’t trust me, he was waiting for his opportunity, same as me. This is the way of the Sith, slave, or didn’t you know. He was in my way, so I cut him down.” He readied his blade and started towards Tritolyte, “And now, you’re in my way.” Steeling herself she raised her vibroblade, she had certainly killed less deserving people before, but before he had closed the distance, before she could strike, two blaster shots rang out. Ffon managed to catch the first one on his blade and deflect it but the second caught him fully in the chest. The red skinned acolyte fell forward, his blade dropping out of his hand, as he joined the pile of bodies in the tomb.

“Nice shot,” was all Tritolyte could manage to say as she stared down at Ffon’s body. “Thanks, Trit.” Came Vette’s easy reply; she was remarkably calm for the situation, Tritolyte thought, although perhaps, since she didn’t know these men their deaths were of no more significance than the dozen other acolytes they had killed on their way in. Tritolyte snapped back into action, and ran over to Klemral. She knelt next to him, even as she knew it was too late; his eyes were open and glassy, and there was a terrible hole burned through his chest. He had followed Ffon and Vemrin into the tomb, knowing they were more than his match, knowing how unlikely it was that he would get out alive. He had followed them, to help her, because she had helped him. A single tear rolled down Tritolyte’s face and splashed onto Klemral’s cheek. Tritolyte steeled herself, gently closed the sandy haired acolyte’s black eyes, and stood to face the Twi’lek again. She did not have to kill Ffon, Tritolyte thought, it might have even been smarter to watch the fight and help whoever won. Then again, watching Ffon kill his last ally in cold blood didn’t exactly make one want to be his new best friend.

There was no time to dwell on Vette’s reasoning for helping her; Tritolyte walked back over to the wall with the entrance, “Ready, Vette?” The woman gave her a cocky smirk before shifting a lever that was wedged behind a statue, “I’m always ready, Trit,” She shot back, as the entire wall fell away with an earth shaking rumble, and they entered the chamber side by side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, critiques are welcome.


	5. Freeing Vette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Immediately before leaving Korriban for Dromund Kaas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very short one, just wanted to show Trit taking off Vette's collar

Immediately after being dismissed by Baras, Tritolyte returned to the dorms where the acolytes slept with Vette in tow. When they arrived Tritolyte was relieved to find them empty, and as the door slid shut behind her she turned to face Vette, who was looking very nervous. “So, looks like you’re stuck with me, nice of your scary master to give you such a nice gift.” The Twi’lek said in a forced light tone, while eying the Sith apprentice warily. It occured to Tritolyte how it must look, her dragging Vette off to her bedroom as soon as Baras had given her ownership of the Twi’lek, and she felt guilty for the fear the implications must have caused the other woman. Hurriedly, she reached into her robe pocket and took out the remote to Vette’s collar. The Twi’lek flinched in anticipation of the collar’s shock, as Tritolyte quickly found the buttons to deactivate the collar and disengage the locks on it. The collar fell off of the woman’s neck and she caught it in both hands, staring at it for a moment before looking up and the Sith in front of her, questioningly.

“You’re free.” Tritolyte said, suddenly, without preamble, “I don’t want a slave, I won’t own another person.” She said speaking very quickly, without fully processing what she was saying, “You don’t have to stay with me, you can do whatever you like, I won’t stop you, you’re free, after all, I couldn’t stop you, if I wanted to, and I don’t. Want to stop you, that is.” Vette’s eyes were wide, as they looked at the stammering young woman in front of her. “I mean you can stay if you want, of course.” Tritolyte blundered on, “I could use the company, but I don’t want to force you, I’d never force you to do anything, you’d be free to leave whenever you’d like. We’d just be partners, or something…” The human finally trailed off, looking at the Twi’lek, unable to keep the hope out of her voice and face. Vette stood, stunned, for a moment before speaking, “Thanks,” Tritolyte’s hopeful gaze turned confused, “For freeing me, I mean.” Vette elaborated. “You didn’t have to, obviously.” Tritolyte shook her head, “Don’t thank me, no decent person would even consider keeping a slave. I don’t deserve thanks for doing the bare minimum. Slavery is abhorrent, I only wish I could free all of us. Them.” She amended, belatedly.

“I thought those were slave scars, under those newer scratches.” Vette said softly, “And, I could see the line where your collar used to be.” She continued, her eyes roaming the right side of the woman’s face before dropping to the fading, but still visible, tan line where there used to be a slave collar like the one she held in her hands. “Can I ask what happened?” Tritolyte shifted uncomfortably under the woman’s soft gaze. “The Emperor happened,” She replied feigning nonchalance, “All force sensitives in the Empire were required to go to Korriban for training, my master was dealing in Imperial space at the time, and a Sith Lord recognized the force in me.” Tritolyte’s face was hard. “So he ordered my master to free me, so I could train to become Sith.” A hard single note of laughter escaped her, “Freed me, so that I could trade one master for another.” Tritolyte seemed to catch herself, “Sorry, I shouldn’t complain. All I ever wanted was to be free, and now I’ve got it, after all.” Vette hesitantly placed her hand on the young woman’s shoulder. The former slaves shared a look of understanding, before Vette said, “Yes,” Tritolyte blinked, “Yes, I’ll go with you to Dromund Kaas, and whatever comes after.” Trit smiled, and just as the first time Vette had seen her smile, the difference the expression made was striking. The Sith apprentice was a very dangerous woman, the Twi’lek had seen her shoot lightning from her fingertips and had seen first hand her skills with her fancy new lightsaber, but the grateful smile she shot her now made her realize just how lonely and scared the young woman must feel. Vette returned the smile, “Well now, me and my buddy the Sith, nobody’s gonna pick on me in school.” Tritolyte chuckled at the woman’s antics. “Come on Trit, we gotta get you packed, I hear the Sith wait for no one.” Another laugh, a fuller one escaped the human’s lips, as side by side, they gathered her meager belongings to leave this dusty, ancient planet behind.


End file.
